Bottoms Up
by carolinagirl919
Summary: To prepare for his cover as a bartender to get closer to their latest number, Reese practices his barkeeping skills... with a little help from Carter.


**Author's Note: I wrote this one-shot from a prompt in a Careese chat. My BFF and awesome beta, Bug Evans, celebrated her 21st birthday on May 1st and it's only right that I post a story about sex and alcohol for her as a present. :o) Happy belated birthday, sis.**

**Anyway, this story is unbeta'd so any errors you see are mine and I apologize in advance.**

* * *

Bottoms Up

Joss walked out of the courtroom feeling the tension quickly fading from her neck and shoulders. Today, she had to testify in two different trials for two of the lesser HR cases she had solved last year; the small potatoes. Soon enough, she would be face to face with Quinn and Simmons when their trials began. She checked the time on her watch and mentally cheered. It wasn't too late for happy hour. She wasn't a heavy drinker, but after spending almost an entire day in court, she felt like she at least deserved a lemon drop martini.

The heels of the black pumps she wore clacked against the stone steps outside of the courthouse. The biting winds made her grip her black wool coat closer to her body and tie her winter white cashmere scarf closer around her neck. The scarf was a present from John that he had given her a couple months ago for Christmas.

After the kiss they shared in the morgue, she thought things would be awkward for them. But in the aftermath of the shooting, the events that occurred were a blur. Things happened so fast that they never had time to be awkward. Life was literally too short for that.

A quarter of an inch. That's how close the bullet was to hitting her directly in the heart and killing her. Yet she was dead on the operating table for nearly five minutes before they revived her. At least that's what the doctor had said. She was one of the best surgeons in the city, and Joss was certain that she may have been a number that Finch and John had helped in the past. She definitely received the best treatment money could buy.

When she finally woke up in the hospital, Fusco had filled her in on what happened after the doctors and her family had cleared out. She spent a lot of time in recovery while John went off on a rampage instead of tending to his own wounds. He managed to hunt down Simmons and Quinn, but she was thankful he didn't kill them. Fusco told her that John nearly died because he refused treatment the first time, dead set on revenge because he thought she had died in his arms. The emotions she felt after that were overwhelming and she wasn't sure how to process it.

Weeks later, after she had been discharged and started to heal and begin her physical therapy, John showed up one day at her apartment. She and Taylor, mostly Taylor, had been working on decorating the Christmas tree. It was the first time she had seen him since the shooting and she was surprised to see him. He looked a little worse for wear and she harped on him about not taking care of himself, but in true John fashion, he brushed it off and insisted he was fine.

He held up the two gift bags and asked to come in. Once he was settled, he helped them to trim and decorate the tree. Taylor left them alone to give them privacy to talk and they did. While they acknowledged their burgeoning feelings for each other, they decided it was best to take things slow to see where they would lead.

Before he left, he insisted that she open his gift before Christmas, not wanting her to wait. Inside, was a beautiful scarf; the same scarf she was wearing today and had worn nearly every day since he gave it to her.

She hadn't expected the thoughtful gift, but it was a pleasant surprise. Ever since that night, John had been full of surprises. Dinners at his loft. Sipping champagne on the rooftop while watching the stars. Impromptu movie nights at her place, showing up with DVDs, popcorn, and Goobers. Sweet hello and goodbye kisses. He was courting her and she liked it.

Another biting gust of wind shook her out of her musings and she hustled briskly to her unmarked cruiser, thankful to have her old ride back, versus the traditional squad car she had to drive when she was demoted down to beat cop. She started the engine and turned on the heat, sitting idle until the car warmed up. She _really_ hated winter and couldn't wait for the first signs of spring. Her cell phone rang and she saw it was an unlisted number. It could only be one of three people, okay maybe four. John, Harold, Sam, or... she shuddered, Root. Or 'The Machine', as Finch called it.

She answered the phone with her usual fare. "Carter," she barked into the phone, trying to keep her teeth from chattering while the car finally began to warm up.

"Hello, Detective."

"Nope. No, John. Whatever it is, call Fusco. I've been in court all damn day and I just wanna get a stiff drink and then make my way home."

"I think I can help you with that. I've got exactly what you need… and it's stiff, too."

She could hear his smirk through the phone. "Lucky for you, I know what you mean by that. Are you still working on your cover?"

A new number had come up for a woman named Vanessa Jordan. She was a waitress at a new and exclusive nightclub that was so selective that it lived by its namesake. Studio 51 had come back to New York City and was surprisingly as popular as it was in the 70's. The stories about the goings on inside the club were just as salacious now as it had been back then, but in this decade, everything got posted on YouTube, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, etc., etc. Finch worked his magic and managed to get John hired as a bartender and Shaw hired as a go-go dancer. When Joss found out about it, she laughed so hard that she snorted. Neither John nor Shaw was amused. Well, maybe John, but Shaw never stopped scowling.

"Yes. I start tomorrow night and I need a guinea pig."

"You want me as a patron at your makeshift bar, John?"

"I'm offended," he deadpanned. "It's not makeshift. I have a fully loaded bar with top shelf spirits. Come on over. I promise I can make a better apple martini than what you get at your usual dive."

She sighed with feigned annoyance. She wouldn't pass up the chance to spend time with him no matter the circumstance. "Fine. You win. I'll be over in a bit."

"See you later, Joss."

* * *

John set up the bar on the island in his kitchen with everything he needed. Various white and dark liquors, sweet liqueurs, fruit and vegetable juices, colas, club soda, tonic water, and various garnishes. He even had a glass jar with the words 'Tip Jar' written on white paper taped to the front of it. He had everything he needed to make the most common and popular drinks ordered at the club, even the not so common drinks. He knew that Joss would be arriving in a few minutes so he began to prepare her drink of choice. It was an easy recipe to remember and he hoped that the club goers would choose the simpler cocktails from the drink menu.

He poured one part vodka, one part sour apple schnapps, and one part pressed apple juice from an orchard upstate over ice into the metal shaker. Just before he started to shake the drink, he heard Joss knocking on the door. Calling out for her to let herself in, he continued to make her drink. By the time she walked inside the kitchen, he had already poured it into a martini glass and added a spiraled peel from a green apple. She was cheerful, but he saw the weariness in her eyes.

He handed her the glass. "You look like you could use this."

"That bad, huh?" she asked with a smile, before accepting the drink and taking a large sip. "Mmm," she moaned in surprise. "This is really good. If vigilantism doesn't work out for you, you could make a career change."

"I aim to please," he remarked as he walked around to remove her coat. "Let me get this for you. Have a seat. When I get back, I'll show off more of my talents."

"Don't get too cocky, John. It's not like this is a hard drink to make. You have to work to get find something in that little tip jar you have over there." She nodded in the direction of the lone tip jar on the countertop before tossing a smirk over her shoulder. "On second thought, this drink is a little weak. You promised me something _stiff_."

He folded her coat in the cradle of his arm, wrapped the other warm around her waist, and pulled her toward him so that her back was against his chest. "Careful, Joss," he whispered against her ear. "You just might get what you ask for."

She swallowed to relieve her suddenly dry throat and huskily replied, "You promise?"

He let out a small chuckle and softly pressed his lips against the sensitive spot on her neck. "I always keep my promises." He slowly slid his arm from around her body and reluctantly released her.

"Good to know," she replied, regaining her composure now that she was no longer pressed against his body. "Now hurry back so I can test your skills as a barkeep."

She took a seat on one of the stools around the island and he couldn't keep his eyes off her legs as she slowly crossed them. Her attire was conservative and appropriate for court─ black leather pumps, black sheer hose, black skirt, dark blue blouse, and her hair was pulled back into a bun─ but he still found her incredibly sexy. He took another long appreciative look at her before his gaze met hers along with a knowing smile forming across her full lips. John smiled and left the kitchen to put away her coat and scarf.

* * *

When John came back to the kitchen, he noticed that Joss' glass was empty. "Thirsty?" he asked with a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile of his own. It felt good to get her flustered for a change.

She smiled sheepishly. "Let's get started, smartass. You make a good apple martini, but can you make a classic dry martini?"

"That's nothing. Coming right up," he replied and grabbed the bottles of gin and dry vermouth to begin the traditional 2-to-1 recipe.

Joss watched as John stirred the gin and vermouth over ice in a mixing glass. He wasn't necessarily slow tending bar, but with past experience from tending bar during her college days she knew that he could easily get overwhelmed with multiple drink orders at his current pace. She wondered if he was truly ready for this cover. He always remained cool under pressure, but she wanted to make sure he remained that way when he was placed out of his element. He stained the cocktail into another martini glass and added an olive before serving it to her.

She took a sip of the drink before setting it aside. It wasn't her favorite cocktail, but it was just as good as the first drink he made for her and she told him as much. But she knew he needed a challenge.

"You've done well so far, but things could get tricky when you're actually at the club. The bar is gonna be packed so you need to be able to remember the orders, make the drinks quickly, _and_ put on a show. All while cigarette smoke is being blown in your face and music is blaring so loudly you can literally feel your insides shake from the vibrations of the bass."

"Sounds like your typical nightclub."

"Yep. It will be. You'll also meet some funny characters as well and you need to know how to handle them and keep them in line. So imagine I'm just a woman at the club ordering a round of drinks for her girlfriends. I'll take it easy on you and give you the stereotypical 'Girls Night Out' drinks of choice."

"Don't hold back on my account, Joss," he said with a smile so sexy she thought about putting something in his tip jar. Maybe he really _was_ caught out for this.

She smiled before going into character as a bubbly, ditzy young woman out with her friends. "Hi, I'd like two fuzzy navels, a cosmopolitan, a margarita on the rocks, two rum and diet colas, and a lemon drop martini please."

John went into a zone, preparing each drink with precision. It gave him a different kind of feeling from when he cooked. When he cooked, he had room for error and could improvise. With cocktails he had to be precise and closely follow every recipe. He completed every order in a span of five minutes and placed each drink in front of her.

"Do you think you'll be able to carry all of these? Perhaps I can get a waitress to send these to your table for your friends?" He gave her a self-satisfied grin.

She playfully rolled her eyes at him. "Service with a smile. I like it." She took a sip of each drink and was impressed. He hadn't even referred to the recipe book she saw lying on the counter. "You did a pretty good job, but next time put on more of a show. Flip bottles; pour the alcohol without looking or measuring. Flirt with the ladies at the same time. Make it seem like you've been doing this for years and not like you just got your bartending license," she coached.

"You sound like you've done this before."

"Maybe..." She hid her grin behind the martini glass as she took another sip from the lemon drop martini. It was her second favorite martini to drink. She knew that this was probably the only whole drink she should consume tonight. She wasn't exactly a lightweight, but she knew her limits.

John took the abandoned cocktails and poured each of them down the drain in the kitchen sink and began to wash the glasses. While his back was turned to her, she decided to give him a different sort of challenge. If there was anything in the world that could get John Reese flustered, it was an overly flirtatious and forward woman.

She took the pins out of her bun and let her hair down, running her fingers through it to give it a tousled look. She quickly unbuttoned the top three buttons of her blouse to show an overly generous amount of cleavage, so much that the lace of her dark blue bra was visible. She leaned over the island with her arms folded under her, pushing up her already ample breasts.

She wished she could have taken a picture of the expression on his face when he turned around. A mixture of surprise and arousal was written all over his face until he was able to school his features into his usual unfazed and nonchalant mask. She flashed him a million dollar smile and turned on the charm.

"Hi there, sexy. I haven't seen you here before. Are you new here?"

* * *

The corners of his mouth slowly turned upward. He liked where this game was headed and was more than willing to play along. "It's my first night."

"So you're a virgin?" she asked with a saucy smile.

"Not in the literal sense, but maybe you can pop my cherry tonight," he playfully retorted with his usual smirk.

"Hmmm..." She dipped her index finger into the martini and slowly sucked the liquid from it, slipping it slowly out of her mouth without breaking eye contact. "Perhaps." She sat up and tossed her hair over her shoulders. "I'd like a Bad Habit, please."

John, already more than aroused from her little show, was thrown for a loop. He remembered seeing that name in the little black recipe book, but with his brain short circuiting due to all the blood rushing to the lower half of his body, he couldn't remember what was in it.

"That sounds more like something you need to be cured from rather than requesting," he bluffed, hoping she'd take the bait and change her drink choice.

She appeared to mull it over in her head. "You're right. Maybe I should start with something else. This _is_ your first time and all."

"You're much too kind." He leaned over the countertop and reached out for her hand, raising it to his mouth to give it a kiss.

She slowly pulled her hand away and his eyes followed her movements as she brought that hand up to her chest, toying with the open collar of her shirt. He caught a flash of the scar from where she was shot and the vivid memory of that night momentarily cooled him down… until her fingertips grazed the top of her breasts. He felt a flush of heat creeping up his neck.

"Well, I guess I'll have..." She continued to lightly skim her cleavage with her fingers. "A Buttery Nipple."

John was sure that Joss knew he was starting to get flustered, but he continued to play this game. Without a word, he made the shot of half butterscotch schnapps and half Bailey's Irish cream and placed the shot glass in front of her.

She took the shot and placed the empty shot glass in front of him. "What's the matter? Cat got your tongue?"

He smirked at her antics and wondered how far this would go. "Not at all. It's just that I've never met a woman quite like you before."

"How cute, I bet you say that to all the girls."

"Only the pretty ones."

With that line he nearly got her to break character as she burst into a fit of giggles, but that was short lived. He watched her toss her hair back over her shoulder and gave him a sassy look. "Okay, handsome. You're a pretty tall guy." She looked him up and down lasciviously. "Big feet, big hands... Think you can make me a Big Stick?"

"Wouldn't you want a shot of Foreplay first?" Two could play this game. He didn't know what the hell was in a Big Stick, but he'd look in the book and commit it to memory just in case a woman _was_ this forward with him while he worked the case.

"Mmm, sounds good. I'll take both. And because I'm feeling generous, toss in a Blow Job for good measure," she answered with a grin, twirling the ends of her hair around her fingers.

John was pretty sure his entire face was now a deep shade of red. He turned away from her to look for the recipe book, but it was not where he left it.

"Looking for something?"

He turned to see her holding the small black book. He also noticed a few more buttons on her blouse had come undone. Anymore of this and _he_ would come undone. He took the book to look up the recipe and busied himself with making the drinks and tamping down his libido.

* * *

_It's getting way too hot in this loft_, Joss thought. She had no one to blame but herself. She was only supposed to order a few racy drinks to give John a hard time and tease him for getting too hot under the collar. But now _she_ was the one getting hot and bothered.

While he made her a shot of Foreplay, she couldn't help but think that this was their own method of foreplay. Would tonight be the night things went beyond longing stares and short but sweet kisses? They had decided to take things slow, but now she was wondering why either of them agreed to this torture. The sexual tension in the kitchen was thick and she was pretty sure that they would end up having sex tonight.

And if the sex ended up being half as good as his drinks and his food, she would call out sick tomorrow.

He placed the three drinks in front of her. "Anything else I can get for you?" he asked in a voice that was low and full of unbidden arousal. Clearly, his undivided focus on making the drinks did nothing to cool him down if he could no longer disguise how turned on he was by all of this.

She took a look at the drinks in front of her. Two shots and one cocktail. One of the shots was topped with whipped cream. She could have fun teasing him with that one.

She picked up the Foreplay shot in a toasting gesture. "Cheers." After knocking it back, she knew she was close to reaching her limit. He knew it too, because he miraculously came up with a cold bottle of water from his fridge.

"Thanks." She accepted the bottle and opened it to take a sip.

"No problem. Figured you needed it. Are you satisfied?" He asked, letting the double entendre linger between them.

"No."

"No?" John raised an eyebrow.

"No," she answered firmly.

She swiped her index and middle finger across the whipped cream on top the Blow Job shot. She licked each finger one by one slowly and seductively, waiting for him to break. He was still red under the collar and his breathing was beginning to sound labored, but she didn't think he was nearly as aroused as she was. Liquid heat pooled in the center of her legs and had been nonstop ever since he uttered the words, "Foreplay." She wanted to know how long it would take for his control to snap and see just how passionate he could be.

"I've had my Foreplay, but have yet to try this Blow Job and haven't even tasted your Big Stick. So I'll try those, but after that I want four last things."

"I think you've reached your limit. As your bartender, I can't allow you to have too much to drink. I have a responsibility." He reached for the drinks and she stopped his movement by placing her hand on top of his.

She released a sigh of faux disappointment. "I guess you're right. All I wanted was a Bend Me Over, Sex with the Bartender, and a Screaming Orgasm, All Night Long. But that would be too much, wouldn't it?" She picked up the shot glass, knocked it back, and licked the whipped cream from her top lip, refusing to break eye contact.

* * *

He wanted her.

It was a simple, carnal need he had for her and he planned on giving her everything she had asked for. Even if it nearly killed him─ but, hey, what a fantastic way to go.

John walked around the island and stopped in front of her. Spotting a small speck of whipped cream on the corner of her mouth, he leaned forward and kissed it away. His tongue darted out to taste the sweetness of the cream and her lips.

"You missed a spot," he whispered against her lips.

She smiled softly and her breathing became more labored. "Did I?"

He pressed a soft kiss against her lips. "Yeah."

"What about my order?" she asked, running her hands up his chest to rest on his shoulders.

"Coming right up."

He pulled her blouse from the waistband of her black skirt and undid the last buttons. He placed his hands on the heated bare skin of her waist before leaning in for another kiss. Their lips met with urgency and their tongues danced in an erotic rhythm. Her taste was sweet amaretto, whipped cream, and Joss.

He broke the kiss and moved down to a sensitive spot on her neck, while she pulled the white dress shirt from the waist of his black pants and frantically began to undo the buttons.

She groaned in frustration. "Get this off," she demanded, trying to push the shirt off his shoulders.

He pulled on her blouse. "You first."

With a smile, Joss slid from the stool to stand on her feet and let her open blouse fall off her shoulders and onto the floor. She walked out of the kitchen while lowering the zipper on the back of her skirt. He followed closely behind her getting rid of his dress shirt and leaving it on the kitchen floor as well.

She passed by the glass table in the dining room area of his loft and headed towards his bed when he grabbed her hips, stopping her in her tracks. He nibbled on the lobe of her ear and wrapped his arms around her waist. She could feel his erection on her ass through the fabric of her skirt and his pants.

"We still have on too many clothes," she said breathlessly.

"I agree," he stated, placing another hot open-mouthed kiss on her neck which made her moan.

He walked backwards, pulling her with him and turned her body so that she was standing in front of the table. Wrapping his arms around her, he went for her neck again, kissing and nibbling along her collarbone, and she tightened her grip on his forearms. He moved down and swept his mouth across the tops of her breasts and pushed her skirt past her hips.

She stepped out of the skirt pooled at her feet and started to kick off her shoes when he stopped her. "Keep them on."

She smiled seductively and walked backwards until she felt the cool glass of the dining room table pressing against her. He stood there for a moment and appreciated the sight of her. She stood in front of his dining room table in a dark blue lace bra and barely there panties, with thigh high sheer hose and black leather pumps. She was so damn sexy and looked good enough to eat. His mouth watered at the thought.

"You gonna just stand there?" she asked, impatience getting the best if her.

Without another word, he closed the gap between them and lifted her by the waist to gently sit her on the table. He reached behind her to unhook the clasp and slid the bra straps from her shoulders, tossing the article of clothing behind him to land on the floor next to her skirt. Cupping her breasts in his hands, he sucked her nipples, going back and forth between both.

Writhing beneath him, she moaned his name and reached down to stroke his hard cock through his pants. "Still too many clothes," she groaned before unhooking his belt buckle, unbuttoning his pants, and lowering the zipper.

She started to slide her hand down his boxer briefs when he grabbed her wrist to stop her movements. "Not yet."

He gently pushed her back until she was lying down on the table, the coolness of the glass against her heated skin made goose bumps appear across her skin. His hands ghosted over her breasts and down her body until he reached her panties. She lifted her hips to help him as he hooked his fingers under the waistband and pulled them down her legs. He let his eyes roam over her naked body as she lied there in only her heels and thigh high sheer hosiery.

She lifted her head to look at him and saw the heated look in her eyes before she boldly exposed herself, spreading her legs and bending her knees to rest her heels on the edge of the table. She was beautiful from head to toe and he could see how very aroused she was by her glistening folds. He pulled a chair from under the dining room table and took a seat in front of her. He picked up one heeled foot and then the other, lifting her legs and placing them over his shoulders.

It was time to eat.

* * *

The first stroke of his tongue against her had Joss lifting her hips off the table. She moaned softly as her hands gripped his shoulders. She then moved them up to run her fingers through his short, salt and pepper hair. He softly blew against her hot core before he flicked his tongue over and around her clit, toying with her before sucking it into his warm mouth. On and on it went; alternating between intense flicks of his tongue and long sweeping kisses. God that man could do wonderful things with his mouth.

He licked every part of her and used his fingers to thrust in and out of her heat. He withdrew his fingers and replaced them with his tongue, moving in and out of her, mimicking what he would later do to her with his cock. When he drew his tongue out completely and suckled her clit again, she felt an orgasm sweep over her body. His fingers slid back inside her, hitting her G-spot as she rode out her orgasm only for it to be immediately followed by even stronger one. She swore she saw stars flash behind her tightly closed lids as she came, crying out his name as the tremors rocked her entire body.

Her bones felt like they had been turned into mush as she lied on the table, panting and trying to catch her breath. He kissed up her thighs and stood to kiss her belly button. He moved up further to give more attention to her breasts until she couldn't take any more of the sensations still running through her body. She pushed against his chest with one hand and managed to lift her body from the table with the other, bringing them back to their earlier position.

"You still have on too many clothes," she complained. She pulled the hem of his white undershirt and he lifted his arms so she could remove the offending shirt completely, tossing it on the floor.

She took in the sight of him; he was lean with a solid build. _No wonder he looks so good in his suits_, she thought. She lightly raked her fingertips across his chest, her eyes following the movement and taking note of the different scars riddled across his body. She leaned forward to kiss each and every one of them before she licked around his flat nipples. He moaned as his hands tightly gripped her hips.

She slid from the table with the sound of her heels hitting the hardwood floor. She leaned up to give him a brief kiss before she worked her way back down, kissing down his neck to his chest and further down, lowering herself to her knees. She pulled his pants down to his knees, followed by his black boxer briefs. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around his erect shaft. He was nicely sized, the weight of his cock heavy in her hands. Big Stick indeed…

She began to stroke him, teasing him by kissing his thighs and beneath his belly button. She could feel him tensing underneath her as he took in a sharp breath at her actions. Deciding to no longer prolong the torture, she took him in her mouth. It took time to adjust to his size, but she thoroughly enjoyed pleasuring him, loving his taste. His groans encouraged her to continue, and she began to stroke him while she sucked him.

"Joss…" he moaned as he grabbed a handful of her hair.

She used her hands to tightly hold the base of his shaft, while her mouth continued to move up and down his cock. She sucked at his head, slicing her tongue through his slit, enjoying the taste of his pre-cum. She used her other hand to cup his sack and felt them tightening, which let her know he was getting close. She looked up at him to see him with his head thrown back and his eyes closed; the expression of sheer pleasure across his face. Seeing him that way was a turn on and she felt her walls clinching in anticipation for him. She began to stroke him faster to bring him closer to the edge. He moaned loudly before he opened his eyes and looked down at her, the heat and lust in his eyes were palpable.

He led her mouth away from him. "Not like this. I want to be inside you."

He helped her up from the floor and kissed her hard, before he turned her body around and pushed her over the table, bending her over. He kissed and licked her down her back, all the way to her plush backside. He spread her legs apart and fingered her heat, her arousal slick on his fingers. With a few long strokes of his tongue against her folds, she pushed back onto his face, moaning in need.

"Please," she begged.

He slowly stood up and rubbed the tip of his cock against her slick opening, continuing to tease her before he slowly plunged inside of her all the way to the hilt. He paused so that she could adjust to his size and he to hers. She felt so good; so tight, hot, and wet. He needed to take his time or this would be over before it even started. She moaned, grinding against him, needing him to move.

He reached around to the front of her body, finding her clit and working it as he delivered painfully slow thrusts. He bent over her and whispered against her ear, "Is this what you wanted?"

"Yes," she moaned. "Now fuck me."

He happily obliged, grabbing her by the hips and picking up his pace. Her moans and shouts urged him on and he stroked her deeper, giving everything he had in him. He felt her walls began to tighten around his cock and knew she was getting close. He picked up her right leg, bending it at the knee before placing it on the table to give him a different angle, and a better position to hit her sweet spot.

"Fuck!" she shouted, her loud moans echoing through his loft.

He was relentless as he pumped in and out of her, hitting her spot over and over. Sweat poured off his body and he felt his orgasm getting closer, but he held back, waiting for her to have another one of her own before he came. Her body started shaking and felt her heat clasp around him in a vice grip and he knew she was there. When she screamed loudly and shouted out his name, it was music to his ears. He succumbed to his own mind-numbing orgasm, calling out her name before shooting his hot seed inside of her. He slumped over on top of her, too tired to move while he still pulsed inside of her.

Both of them were hot, sweaty, and panting, trying to come back down to Earth when she asked, "Can I take off these heels now?"

They shared a laugh before they peeled their bodies from the table. He removed her pumps and her hose before he lifted her bridal style and led her to his bathroom to shower together.

* * *

John woke up the next morning to the smell of breakfast cooking in his kitchen. He got up from the bed and plucked a pair of pajama bottoms from his drawer before he walked to the kitchen. Joss was in front of the stove wearing the white dress shirt he left in the kitchen last night. He hoped she wasn't wearing anything else underneath. He stood in the entryway of the kitchen for a moment and appreciated the view of her long, shapely legs. He walked over to her and wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck.

"A man could get used to this," he whispered, loving how domesticated if felt to have her cooking for him in his kitchen like this.

She leaned back against his chest, loving the feel of being in his arms. "So could a woman. Good morning." She plated the eggs and pancakes for them.

"You should come back to bed with me."

She giggled. "I need to eat first, I'm starved."

"Fine," he pouted. "But right after breakfast, we're going back to bed."

They ate their breakfast in comfortable silence in the kitchen, staring at all the bottles of alcohol on the kitchen island.

"What are you going to do with all this booze?" she asked.

"I'm not really sure," he replied, looking at all the different bottles. His eyes wandered over to the tip jar and he noticed it wasn't empty, but there wasn't any cash in it. He picked up the jar and looked inside to see a ball of lacy dark blue fabric inside. He pulled it out to discover it was the panties she wore last night.

"I guess this means I earned my tip last night?" he asked with a shit-eating grin.

"Oh yeah, you definitely put in the work," she answered, giving him a heated look.

He looked at their plates realizing they were done with breakfast. "Then why are we still sitting here? Let's go back to bed. I could use a little more practice."


End file.
